Afterward
I sorted through his meds.
I wanted to see
if more were missing
than I’d expected.

He had spoken of suicide
often
and suggested
in clearer moments
how an overdose
would be an easy way to go.

I knew it would never work
without help I refused to provide
but
what if he found a better accomplice?
What if someone
was willing to offer aid
that I wouldn’t?
What if he’d found the needed drive
on his own?

I counted the meds
and saw nothing out of the ordinary
though I didn’t know
what I was looking for.
What drugs
in excess
would do him in?
If he took all of something
how would I know?

There was no empty bottle
near his red hand.
No obvious evidence of anything
was available
and the autopsy offered no insight, either.

It was a mystery
with no clear answer
unless I chose one
which applied,
I suppose,
to him as well.